Wet Sand
by predatorynature
Summary: AU. BuffyDean Angsty Oneshot. Just read it!


Wet Sand

Hey guys, I thought I would try my hand at a song fic. The song is by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I don't own any of the characters, but I do take credit for the good taste in songs ;)

Wet Sand

By Asha

Rated PG 13

Buffy/Dean

A/N: These are all flashbacks, except where I've indicated. Flashbacks aren't in order of what happened.

_My shadow side, so amplified,  
Keeps coming back dissatisfied  
Elementary son but it's so...  
My love affair with everywhere was innocent,  
Why do you care?  
Someone start the car time to go..._

"What are you still doing here? I thought I told you to clear out…" Dean asked her in a gruff voice, while he purposely busied himself with roughly shoving all his clothes into a duffel.

"We're not finished here", Buffy replied, her trembling lip counteracting her confident voice.

He took a deep breath, and felt the bile rising in his throat as he mentally prepared himself for what he knew he had to say.

"Look, you were a decent lay, no doubt about it, but you knew I wasn't gonna be here forever…", he said as he searched for the courage to look in her eyes.

"You were just a way to pass the time" he said as finally looked into those gorgeous green eyes.

"I know you don't mean that Dean, I know you. You care about me, you fucking love me! I know you do…"her voice, which had taken up a desperate tone, died away.

She looked in his eyes, silently begging to see some proof that he was lying.

He had purposely made his eyes blank, taking care not to betray any of his emotions. A skill that he had learned when he was forced to be strong for Sammy after their mom died.

Her bottom lip was trembling, and she tried to hide it by biting her lip. He cursed her inwardly for making him care. It was time for him to go, and prepared to deal the final blow…

"You actually think I meant it? Wow, you're more naïve than I thought. C'mon, Princess, it was just a way to get into your pants. Gotta say tho, I think you would have spread your lithe little thighs for me anyways" he said in a cruel voice that reminded her of Angelus.

What hurt more than the words was the way he practically spat out the term of endearment that she had become so fond of over the past month.

It seemed that he shocked her speechless, and took advantage of it by quickly brushing past her, duffel swung over his shoulder.

"Thanks for the ride, princess", he whispered in her ear as he passed her.

As he leaned on the closed motel door behind him, he could easily hear her cries. And just like that, all the fight in him was gone, and he slid down and sunk to the ground, telling himself it had to be done.

_My sunny side has up and died,  
I'm betting that when we collide  
The universe will shift into a low  
The travesties that we have seen  
Are treating me like Benzedrine  
Automatic laughter from a pro_

He sat hunched over the bar, clutching his bottle of beer protectively, like it was the only the only thing keeping him going…well it was, along with the row of empty bottles lined up in front of him.

"So, you done showing the alcohol that you got the best of them, or what?" Sam asked him as he snuck up behind him.

Dean hadn't even realized he had been glaring at the empty beers that had failed their job (getting him ridiculously drunk, so that he couldn't even remember his own name, let alone a certain someone else's)… until he heard Sam's words.

"Ha ha" he retorted as his lips twisted into something that was a cruel imitation of a smile.

"Wow Sammy, when did you get so funny? Hmm, maybe it's to make up for other…inadequacies" Dean said with a smirk on his face.

"Screw off, Dean" Sam spat out as he stormed away.

Hmm, a little sensitive about that issue Sammy boy? I guess I was blessed with the good genes in more ways than one…he thought as he drained the last bottle.

With no more beer to distract him, his thoughts wandered to HER.

I wonder if I'll ever see her again. I mean, we run in the same circle, who knows? He thought with a little smile on his face.

If we actually did meet again, would she throttle me or jump me? Ooh, probably both. That's my girl, he thought as a proud smile graced his features.

_My, what a good day for a walk outside  
I'd like to get to know you a little better, baby,  
God knows that I really tried_

He sat at yet another seedy bar, eying the redhead who was currently bent over the jukebox trying to pick a song to play. She bent over just a little more, and he was treated to a nice view of her underwear under her short skirt, or rather, lack of underwear.

When he was forced to adjust himself while taking in the view, he knew it had been way too long since he had gotten laid.

He walked up to her, and waited till she turned around.

Not bad, a little too much makeup, but it's not like I actually have to look at her, he reasoned. She was singing a long with…was that Justin Timberlake? Hey, don't look at me like that. It's not my fault Sam has bad taste in music.

He turned his attention to her lips, and could almost feel her lips wrapped around his…

He was brought out of his thoughts by the painful tightness in his pants. Shit, 2 weeks without and I'm turning into Sam! He mentally berated.

She seemed to sense his presence, or maybe his gaze on her ass, and slowly turned around.

She gave him an appraising look, and once she was satisfied, she stepped up close to him so her breasts her straining against his chest.

"Hello, gorgeous" she purred into his ear, with a seductive look on her face she must have practiced in the mirror.

See, this is why I don't need pick up lines. Don't get me wrong, my lines are GOLDEN, but once a girl sees me, they pretty much fall into my lap, well at least their mouth does.

He decided to skip the small talk and take her home, home meaning a dingy motel room…when he saw her shirt.

In bright pink words spread across her chest, with a little crown on the side, was the word "Princess".

"Oh shit. Give me a damn break" he whined.

_I saw you there, so unaware,  
Those hummingbirds all in your hair_

Dean broke into a run in the cemetery as he heard the signs of a struggle going on.

He was faced with the image of a hot little blonde kicking a vampire's ass. She looked like she had it covered, so he settled himself in a comfortable spot leaning on a tree and just watched.

The fight was short, only drawn out by the conversation between the two. Well more like she was talking and the vampire was just growling.

When she was getting ready to stake him, he saw her feeling in her pocket and frowning when her hand came out empty.

He was just about to step in, when she shrugged. She said something, and he could have sworn she said:

"Hmm, guess stilettos have another use after all"

He barely had time to process her words when he saw her kick the vamp in the chest, her long stiletto heel plunging into his heart.

She suddenly turned, finally sensing his presence now that the vamp was disposed of, and walked towards him with a suspicious look on her face, her golden hair filled with leaves, and the occasional twig from her struggle.

He thought he had never seen a sexier sight…

_Right on the verge, just one more dose  
I'm traveling from coast-to-coast_

_My theory isn't perfect, but it's close_

Dean sat on the bed in the hotel he and Sam shared, newspaper and pen in hand. They had just gotten rid of some ghosts in a little hick town whose name he couldn't seem to remember.

His brother was currently making goo goo eyes at some local girl they had met when they got here a week ago. And what's worse is that Sam hadn't even gotten laid.

God, if the kid worked any slower he'd be a priest. Now, he was getting attached, ignoring the "love 'em and leave 'em" motto Dean had been following his entire life…well almost his entire life.

He turned his attention back to the newspaper in his hand, and circled a suspicious sounding article, reporting an incident that was conveniently far away from the town they were currently in.

This is for your own good, Sammy, just like it was for her.

_I'm almost there, why should I care?  
My heart is hurting when I share  
Someone open up and let it show_

"Sorry, Willow, I don't think I heard you right", he whispered into the phone in an attempt not to wake Sam, and wiping the sleep from his eyes.

All he could hear was hysterical crying, combined with rambling.

"Jumped…Glory…key…saved lives…Buffy…dead"

He dropped the phone on the bed, blankly staring at where it landed. He could still hear Willow's sobs coming through the phone.

The next time he was coherent, he was faced with the harsh sound of the dial tone grating on his ears, tears running down his face with him unaware.

_You don't form in the wet sand,  
You don't form at all  
You don't form in the wet sand,  
I do_

Present

It had been one and a half years since he got that phone call. Now, he was here in Sunnydale, for the first time, looking at the tombstone that was marked with today's date, the year being 2 years old.

He reached into his leather jacket and took out the crumpled piece of paper that Willow had send to him. Its edges were worn and colour discoloured from being folded and re folded so many times.

It was the letter Dean had written to his girl after he had left. Willow had told him that she had kept it with her until the day she died.

He carefully unfolded it, the crinkling of paper harshly disrupting the quiet, and his gaze was once again drawn to the last line.

"It was for your own good". He stood in front of her grave, reading the line over and over, willing himself to once again believe his words.


End file.
